Always
by Takada Saiko
Summary: During My Darkest Hour when Erik falls ill. Christine watches over him and finds that fear and doubt still lurk in the deepest part of his mind. R


A/N: This takes place in the middle of "My Darkest Hour" where Erik gets sick. I really didn't expand on it very much, but an ill Erik is just too much to pass up. The great Phantom of the Opera… down with a cold? Temporarily, but wouldn't it be fun to play nursemaid?

* * *

The entire way down to the cellars below, Christine was sure that Erik was holding back a coughing fit that threatened him. The sound would bring questions that should not be asked and she clung to him as he made his way shakily down the stairs, his free hand grasping out for the wall.

Her blue eyes turned upward to him, watching him intently. Even in the pale light she could see that his face was ashen and drawn against the noise his body wished to make. They took another step down and he looked back, taking a gage on where they were and finally gave into the fit of coughs.

Christine sunk to the step with him and held him until it had passed and it left him leaning into her, breath coming rapidly. She clung to him, eyes wide and frightened. "Erik?" she breathed, voice trembling.

"I'm alright, my dear," he murmured, a small smile crossing his lips. He stood slowly, starting down the stairs once more. "Come now. We should be getting home."

She nodded and allowed him to lead her to the darkness. That beautiful darkness that swallowed them up and held them in its loving embrace.

* * *

Christine finally got Erik settled down into the bed that they shared. It had been everything she could do to have him there. By the time they'd reached the house by the lake he was shaking horribly. It was that within itself that caused him to be so stubborn against the rest that they both knew that he needed. No, he needed to work on this and that and anything that could keep him away from that bed.

His wife had quietly but firmly ushered him into the room and closed the door, easing him down to the bed and kissed him gently. Her small fingers removed the mask carefully and set it by the bedside. He turned out of habit and she reached around to pull him back. "I love you," she whispered, kissing his marred cheek.

Erik watched as she moved away, promising to be back momentarily. His eyes grew wide, glossy with fever, and he reached a shaking hand out to her. "Christine," he rasped. "Please… don't go."

"I was just going to make you some tea," the young soprano murmured, not understanding his desperate plea.

His breathing became irregular as he struggled up. "Please…"

Christine rushed to his side, easing him back down. "Shh, love," she whispered into his ear. "I'll stay, just lie down. Will you let me get something to bring down your fever?"

He nodded wordlessly and she moved out of the room. She returned a moment later with a damp towel in which she placed on his forehead. "There. Better?"

"Yes," he mumbled, close to sleep.

His wife smiled as she took a seat next to him, taking his hand in her own. He murmured something inaudible and shifted. She squeezed his hand. "I'll be back in a moment, Erik."

"No! Please… Christine, don't leave me."

The words struck her as she stared into those wide, fever-lit eyes of his and saw the tears gathering in them. Her own words of protest – of reasonable explanation – were cut short in her throat and she found her free hand caressing his face. "I won't. I won't ever leave you, my angel."

"But you did," he gasped, his voice raspy and low. "You did…"

_He's ill, _she reminded herself. _It's the fever talking. _But was it? Or was it a fear that he still held deep within himself? Not that she could blame him, after all the people that had betrayed even the smallest amount of trust that he had put into them. She had been the worst of all. Even as he'd proclaimed his love one last time she'd returned with the ring and put it into his hands, walking away with Raoul. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, shifting so that she might lie down next to him. "I won't ever again, I promise, Erik. I'll be here until our dying day, do you understand? I promise you that. I will love you forever."

He looked so like a little boy unsure of the words. "Truly?"

"Truly," she murmured and kissed him. "Always."

A smile crossed his lips as he drifted into the first peaceful slumber he'd had in a good many nights. She was sure that she heard him repeat, "always," just as his eyelids drooped and he sighed a content sigh. She snuggled in next to him, head resting on his shoulder and his arm around her.

_Always._

_

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A/N: Please R&R the fluffyness


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